And the winner of Lindsey Leavitt's Princess for Hire (chosen by Random.org) is comment #19...
email me your address: brosam (at) gmail (dot) com
On to the post:
I went to a writers retreat with a bunch of writing buddies over the weekend. There are no pictures, and I'll explain why in a bit.
I show up Thursday night, a little late to the party, and when I walk in, the condo is dead silent except for the clickety clack of fingers typing away at keyboards.
The scene was unfamiliar to me, as I was expecting a writers retreat, and this was unlike other retreats I'd been to. (What was I expecting, you might ask? Well, at our last one, we spent the first night giving ourselves pedicures and Bree Despain did everyone's hair.)
But Joel (the lone male at the condo) didn't look like he was in the mood to braid hair.
I was all, "What are you guys doing?" (I whispered, because it seemed appropriate.)
Nikki Mantyla (the host of the party) replies, "We're writing." Like, it should be obvious.
me: "Everyone's writing? When is the talking?"
Nikki: "We talked for a while. Now it's time to write. Did you bring your computer?"
me: "I think so. It's in the car. I didn't think I'd be using it right away."
Eventually, I got into the groove, and the next day Sam called. I whispered when I answered.
Sam: "Why are you whispering?"
me: "Because everyone's writing."
Sam: Confused pause. "Everyone? Writing?"
me: "Yeah. It's what we do at writers retreats. duh."
Sam: "It's not what you do at writers retreats."
me (whispering even quieter): "I know. Apparently I've been doing it all wrong."
So, that's why there are no pictures to go with this post. There was no time. We had work to do!
How was all y'all's weekend? Productive? How was your Mother's day?